


The Lost Chapter

by LittleSammy



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSammy/pseuds/LittleSammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blade of the saber whizzed by his head, a little too close for comfort, and Anthony DiNozzo found himself stumbling back in a way not quite as controlled as he had originally planned. Short scene set between "Flavor of the Wind" & its upcoming sequel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Chapter

**Author's Note:**

> Months ago, I wrote this teeeny tiny historical AU that was "The Flavor of the Wind". Shortly after I had finished it, I was already sure that one day it would have a sequel because there was so much background story left over. So far, I never had a plot for wrapping this background into, though, and so the project was always kind of on the backburner. This is not the sequel yet, it is a naughty little snippet that happens about three months after the end of "Flavor" and gives you a glimpse of how Tony settled in with his new life. And yes, the following scene will make absolutely no sense whatsoever if you haven't read "Flavor" first, because it's a story set in 1904's Morocco.
> 
> **warnings:** Two people having naughty fun. Also, yes, contrary to what is seen on the show currently, this is almost sappy in places. ;)

The blade of the saber whizzed by his head, a little too close for comfort, and Anthony DiNozzo found himself stumbling back in a way not quite as controlled as he had originally planned. Evading her thrusts had gotten a little easier over the months, but she still was years ahead of him and often had quite a few tricks up her sleeve that he wasn't prepared for.

Not that she wore sleeves right now, really. They had found that for several reasons light clothing was a good thing during their training sessions, and so, most of the time, Anthony went through them just in pants while his crazy, wonderful Berber woman often opted for just a tunic or thin undergarments.

Ziva gave him a quick grin now and pressed on, and yes, it was foolish, but he loved it when she did that, just pushing him further and further and not giving him a minute's rest. She'd been with him like that ever since they had started their training sessions, and he had welcomed it. He loved the challenge she was to him, in all ways.

He blocked her advance and deflected her saber, but she had seen that coming and just when he leaned into a thrust of his own, she turned to swing the blade the other way. It made him jump back because he was suddenly in danger of losing very precious body parts, and that was not really a good option here.

"Careful," he gasped and gave her a quick grin. "You'll need that one later."

Her answering smile, followed by a quick glance down his bare chest, made his skin tingle, and even though he knew the effect she had on him by now, it still surprised him a bit each time it happened. 

"Will I?" she said teasingly, a playful lilt to her words, and then she moved to the side, circling him slowly. He mirrored her movements, and for a few moments he found himself just staring at her in a way that would have been embarrassing... if he hadn't seen the same look on her face often enough in the three months since he'd left his old life behind and come back to her. To his wife.

His skin tightened when he saw her gaze flick over the tattoo on his neck just then, reading his mind as easily as if she'd spent twenty years with him. He'd made her markings on him permanent barely a week after he had come. He'd asked Tali if she would give him the tribal markings of 'loyal husband' again, to show his commitment to Ziva, just not in henna this time, but permanent ink, and the girl had looked at him with such excited happiness that it had taken some of the pressure of the decision off his chest.

They'd spent almost a whole day on the markings, and it turned out that Tali really had a better hand at these than Ziva did. He liked the way they had turned out, even though it still gave him a weird thrill whenever he saw his own face in a mirror, with the jagged claws of the marks scratching his chin and bleeding down his neck.

They had carefully chosen a day when Ziva had been to the market with two of her guards, and he remembered the look on her face when she'd come home and seen his neck, the skin still raw, but displayed proudly. She had never said a single word to him about it, but that night, she had come to his bed so fiercely that his skin erupted in gooseflesh each time he remembered it.

It had taken another week until a message had called him to her quarters, but not revealing the reason. And he most certainly hadn't expected to find Ziva sitting on a stool quite stiffly, with her sister leaning over her and tattooing the markings of 'proud wife' to her temple.

She had just stared at him wordlessly, her face slightly paler than usual, and he had understood and merely pulled up another stool to sit beside her and watch the process. Halfway through, the scared intensity had left her eyes, only to be replaced by a sudden rush of heat and intimacy that had stayed with her for the better part of that particular night. And yes, that night, the one when Tali had wed them through their markings... that was another one to keep in his memory.

Ziva gave him a quick smile now, and he knew that expression by now, knew that she was getting a tiny bit distracted by his bare chest, too. It was always so easy to tell when she got bored with the physical exercise of sword training. Her concentration wasn't quite slipping yet, but they were getting there, fast.

His own body was too attuned to her by now to ignore that shift in mood for long, and so the slow circles they drew around each other turned into something expectant and tension-filled. Something that would shift into pure lust easily if just one touch went astray now.

But Anthony wasn't quite ready yet to turn the game into this. Yes, he loved it when it happened, and there were times when he thought that he could easily spend whole days and nights with fucking her until neither of them could move as much as a finger, but sometimes drawing it out, making the anticipation rise... sometimes that was the thing which made it oh so much better.

Sometimes she caught him at the tease and called him out on it, and that was a fun thing as well because she liked to test his restraint. One day this woman would kill him through pure exhaustion, he was pretty sure about that. But until then, he would have the time of his life.

He shifted his weight to his heels, going into a different stance, and Ziva's eyes flicked over his chest again, then lower. Oh, yes. That's what he was going for.

He knew that she liked his body... and that she liked the way he dressed since he had come back to her. He hadn't taken a lot back with him from the Western world, but it had turned out soon that tailored pants and dress shirts were the most important thing for him. Aside from the fact that he had simply grown up like that, he liked the ease and comfort these clothes gave him, much more than what the traditional men's garb of Morocco, the djellaba, offered him. He wore a djellaba only when there was some sort of official function or something festive they were supposed to join, but for the most part, he was feeling pretty comfortable in his traditional clothes, even though he had made some adjustments on their level of formality.

"Come on, Ziva," he murmured, his lips twitching with the smug grin he had tried to suppress unsuccessfully. "Is that all you got?"

And yes, he knew the words to get her, to get under her skin, and by now he most certainly knew what he needed to do to make her react. It still surprised him when she suddenly shot forward. Her foot hooked behind his while she shoved him to the ground so hard and unexpectedly that his saber slipped from his grasp and slid away across the dry ground.

The next thing he knew she was straddling his chest and pressing her own blade against his neck. Her left hand rested on the ground beside his head, and her face was suddenly so close that his body jumped to sharp attention. Suddenly he was painfully aware of the fact that she only wore a thin tunic and her thighs were bare against his chest, her skin hot and sweaty from the exertion of their training, her breathing slightly rough around the edges.

And good Lord, she really didn't wear much besides the tunic. He could tell when his hands came up to her hips out of reflex, steadying her. Her eyes darkened when he stared at her mouth, his body already arching into her imperceptibly and seeking more of the sensation of her skin on his, and soon she pressed out a throaty laugh that went down his back like her fingers stroking him.

"You're supposed to avoid the blade, love, not seek it," she murmured and shifted her weight while she slid down his body, but kept her saber at his neck. And he knew what she would do now, knew how her left hand would caress a path down his chest, would touch him slowly, carefully, until she would reach his cock and cup him through his clothes. He knew how her eyes would widen when she'd feel him hard like that, and he knew it would throw her own mind off track as if he had snapped his fingers, because she always seemed to want him just as much and just as urgently as he needed her.

He watched her, panting, his pulse pounding in his ears while her hand made its way down his body, teasing him until the pressure turned into something almost painful. She rose to her knees then, and he gasped when her weight left him, knowing what she would do before she actually started to fumble at his clothes.

"I like these pants of yours," she rasped, and he swallowed hard as she struggled to open them with one hand. "They make you so... accessible..."

Her hand closed around his cock just then, and he gasped, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of her rough palm on his flesh. She echoed the sound deep in her throat while she stroked him, pulling him free, and he could tell that today she wouldn't give him much of a teasing. Today, she was just as needy as he was, and today, she wanted him hard and fast.

He gasped out her name when she sank down on him, and she was so hot, so wet around him that he almost lost it at this first taste of her. His hands tightened on her hips, pressing her down hard while his hips jerked up to meet hers.

The pressure of the blade against his skin grew, and he opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. Heat swirled through him, and he saw her lick her lips. The sudden sensation of her body tightening around him made him groan and his hips jerk, and that left the edge of the blade biting his skin.

"Careful," she murmured, her eyes dark and her pupils wide now, and his hands clenched on her when she rose slightly and then fell back down on him.

His body strummed with the need to just fuck her, just go for it hard, but there was still the saber in play and he knew her well enough that she was sometimes pretty serious about the rules of her games. So he kept watching her while she rode him slowly, her body stroking him until his blood thundered in his ears. 

Breathing turned into something incredibly hard, with her shuddering softly on top of him, and he knew she was going for it in the precise, determined way that would get her to her release very fast. And honestly, he loved it when she did that, simply because he loved watching her, loved to see her gradually lose control and unravel on top of him, until all that was left was pure sensation.

He waited for the exact moment she lost her grip on concentration, when a tiny moan came from her lips and her eyes fluttered shut and her body tensed up and little ripples ran through her, and he used that moment to grab her wrist and twist the saber out of her hand. Then he bent her arm behind her back and flipped her over, and he hadn't planned it, but the movement pressed him so deep into her that she cried out, her free hand coming up to claw at his back.

He grunted, his whole body shaking when she arched her hips into him, still clenching around his flesh but already asking for more, knowing he would give her exactly what she wanted without a second's hesitation.

He kept his left hand in her back, holding her arm down, while he used his right to raise himself above her and go for a better angle. Ziva groaned at the sudden intensity, her eyes tightly shut, and he felt the muscles in her thighs tremble when she raised them, hooking one leg behind his, urging him to fuck her deeper.

"Yes," she gasped, and he shoved into her, stunned by the raw need she gave him and the answering need she drew out of him. He knew by now that she loved it when he took control like this, maybe even more than when he let her have it. And yet, it always took him by surprise whenever she let her passion have free rein.

She cried out again, and this time her fingernails left a trail on his back, making him jerk his hips against hers until he lost control. His mouth came down on her lips hard, and she moaned for him and shoved her tongue into his mouth, and that was it, that was her coming once more, just when he'd thought that he couldn't hold back another moment. And this time she pulled him along with her, and it left him shaking and moaning and muttering her name in coarse bursts of breath that rubbed her skin raw better than the sand underneath them.

She laughed softly when he came back to himself enough to let go of her wrist, but was too drained to lift himself off her just now. His breath took a long time to calm down again, just like hers, and he rubbed his face against her cheek, making her smile with the gesture.

"One day," he murmured, acutely aware of the scandalous way they were both mostly dressed, but still joined, "one day we need to go back to ending a training the usual way."

Soft laughter joined Ziva's from a few steps further away, and Tony blinked and turned his head to find Tali watching them intently, her lush lips stained with the juice of a peach she'd been chewing on before she had stumbled over them.

"One day you need to stop doing this out in the open," the girl snorted, and part of him knew he should feel outraged for the sake of modesty now. The biggest part of him couldn't bring himself to care, though, and so he just grinned at his sister-in-law and told her in no uncertain terms to scuttle off.

**Author's Note:**

> And yes, just in case you are wondering now - I haz a plot. There is no estimated ETA yet, but the sequel officially entered pre-production. ;)


End file.
